


choking on the eternal void of existential existence

by PurpleCatGhost



Series: Existential Existence [1]
Category: Half Life VR But The AI Is Self Aware
Genre: Angst, Angst With Implied Happy Ending, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Gordon Freeman is Stressed, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Post-Canon, Post-Game, Sign Language, Skeleton plays a surprisingly important role, The Void
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:07:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24167815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurpleCatGhost/pseuds/PurpleCatGhost
Summary: Gordon Freeman is all too aware of the skeleton trying to get his attention, but you know what? No. He's done with Black Mesa, he's done with those damned skeletons, and he's especially done withhim.Gordon is determined to be an immovable object on the subject. Unfortunately, the skeleton is stubborn as hell and is a pretty good unstoppable force. Someone's gotta give.It doesn't help that Gordon's been having dreams that he can't get out of his head.
Relationships: Benrey/Gordon Freeman, Bubby/Dr. Coomer (Half-Life), Everyone & Everyone
Series: Existential Existence [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1744276
Comments: 71
Kudos: 604





	choking on the eternal void of existential existence

**Author's Note:**

> Told myself I wasn't gonna make fanfiction.
> 
> Oops.

Gordon Freeman is aware of many things.

He’s aware that for the last- _god, how long was he down there?-_ week or so, he was technically being puppeted by an outside force. Which is still freaky to think about but in all honesty, Gordon actually didn’t mind as much as he thought he would. He still _minds_ of course, but this outside force didn’t do anything that he wouldn’t have done. 

The whole ordeal feels more like he was just puppeting himself, in the strangest way possible. Like someone was just guiding his actions but on some level, Gordon was still _Gordon_ the whole time.

It hurts to think about- his head feels like static when he does. So he tries to avoid the topic altogether.

It rarely works.

Gordon is aware that none of this is real. Or at least, it wasn’t. It was all a literal game before, and they were stuck in it until it all ended. 

Or at least, it should’ve ended. By all means, Gordon thought he would’ve been floating in an endless void being torn apart forever but instead…

Instead they’re here. Wherever here might be. It’s still a game in some aspects but everything feels different.

He’s home. The home in a city he had in his head but thought wasn’t real. He didn’t think it was supposed to _be_ real- none of this was. It was all just supposed to be a fabrication of a fake reality put in his head for some flavor to the story. But suddenly Gordon is here and so is everyone else.

Everyone he cares about at least. Tommy, Dr. Coomer, Bubby, Sunkist- they’re all here. _He’s_ not. Gordon checked. He checked a dozen and one times because _he’s done this before he has to be somewhere-_

But he’s not. Not really at least.

Because the only trace of him left is that skeleton that follows Gordon around. Gordon is all _too_ aware of that. 

He goes out for groceries and the skeleton follows him from a distance. In the store, he sees the skeleton two aisles down. When he gets home and looks out the window, it lurks from across the street, staring at him expectantly.

Gordon pretends like it doesn’t exist. He’s tries to move on with his life because to deal with _him_ is the last thing he wants.

The Science Team, as Dr. Coomer dubbed them, all collectively left Black Mesa. They all got paid off not to say a word to the public and now Gordon has enough money in his pocket to sustain him for years.

Coomer, Bubby, and Tommy all started to talk creating their own scientific organization to continue pursuing it. Gordon was offered a position to help and be a founder but he found himself declining.

Not only did he feel under qualified with only a degree in theoretical physics on his hands, but he wasn’t ready for that yet.

Everyone else seemed to yearn for the work, taking comfort in it. Gordon however had to burn his HEV suit because he couldn’t stand to look at it.

Everything changes. There’s a world for all of them to live in- seemingly real even if Gordon knows better. He’s got a proper prosthetic that works even better than his actual hand- _“Faster reflexes, Gordon! You never know when you might need them!”_ \- and he has minimal pain from it. Gordon gets daily pictures and videos of Sunkist. Bubby and Coomer are moving in with each other. There’s talk of them renting out an old warehouse to work in.

Everything changes but Gordon feels like he’s getting left behind. He can’t bring himself work. He only goes outside to see his friends and get food. Half the day, he spends lying in bed, staring at the wall expectantly like it’s all going to be ripped from him in an instant. Nothing bad happens but Gordon can’t shake his nerves firing up suddenly like they will every time something goes wrong.

The nightmares don’t help.

None of the dreams are the same and none of them are exactly how he remembers them. His memories warp and twist around his neck until he can’t breathe and he wakes up in a cold sweat.

The loss of his hand is a reoccurring one. A final battle that he loses is another one. Dr. Coomer actually getting to him and killing him, never finding Tommy and wandering alone until he bleeds out, Bubby and his tube except this time, Gordon’s on the other side of the glass and no amount of begging gets him out of there.

He rarely has peaceful nights these days. The most tame of his dreams are still unnerving. The skeleton makes a few appearances and beckons him towards it.

Gordon hates those dreams in particular because they’re too _real_ for his liking. Makes him wonder if something’s gotten into his head. 

—

According to the date, it’s been exactly two weeks since Gordon left Black Mesa. He’s not sure if it feels like it’s been longer than that, or like it hasn’t been long enough.

He wakes up thrashing and spends an hour trying to convince himself he’s safe. It barely works but Gordon manages to get his breathing back to normal at least. Another dream of pain searing through his right arm still weighs heavy in his mind. 

Gordon wishes the memory would stay the same. Then it wouldn’t get any worse, but his mind seems to have other ideas. Instead, he dreams of his closest friends strapping him down on a table and cutting it off themselves. No random army soldiers attacking him in the dark. Instead he’s haunted by bright lights, smiling faces, and the voices of the few people he can bring himself to trust telling him it's for the greater good.

_“Don’t worry, Gordon! We’ve already voted- this was a group effort!”_ Dr. Coomer’s voice is sickeningly friendly.

_“It’ll only be a second. This isn’t my first amputation. I’m the best in Black Mesa.”_ Bubby is wielding a saw and slowly closes in on his arm.

_“Don’t worry, Mr. Freeman! It’s all sanitary, I cleaned it myself.”_ It’s an attempt at a reassurance but nothing Tommy says does anything to stop him from screaming.

Gordon can do nothing but scream in the dream. He yells and pleads and tries to thrash out of the metal straps around his limbs but the most he can do is wiggle. 

_“Hey.”_ The voice makes Gordon’s heart stop. Because he knows that voice far too well to take any sort of comfort in hearing it. He strains his head and finds himself locking eyes with a face whose expression doesn’t change. Like he’s watching paint dry, not someone’s arm get chopped off as they scream at everyone to stop.

_“You shouldn’t squirm so much. You’re going to hurt yourself like that.”_ It almost sounds like concern but he’s doing nothing but watching so Gordon knows it’s not.

He wants to say something to him. He opens his mouth to, unsure what’s going to come out, an angry yell, a threat or accusation of some kind, or a plead to help him. He doesn’t get to say anything as pain erupts in his arm and _Gordon can’t breathe-_

Gordon squeezes his eyes shut and lets out a shaky breath. _It’s not real._ He tells himself. _They’re your friends. They would never._

It doesn’t make him feel any less sick.

Gordon isn’t sure how much time has passed when he hears the knock at the door but there’s light streaming through his blinds when he blinks back into reality. It takes all the willpower he has and a whole lot of groaning to roll off his bed and manage to make his way to the front door. He does his best to wipe the sleep from his eyes but even without a mirror, he knows he doesn't look much better then he feels.

When he opens the door, Gordon blinks. It’s not the last person he wanted to see, but he’s certainly not very high on the list. The man smiles at him, examining him carefully before meeting his gaze and asking, “Mr. Freeman, mind if I have a quick word with you?”

“I just woke up.” The words tumble right out of his mouth.

“No, you didn’t.” He continues to smile like he knows everything about Gordon. It takes a little more than he’d admit to _not_ slam the door in his face but Gordon reminds himself this is technically Tommy’s father. He has to play nice, if not for either of them, for Tommy.

Gordon doesn’t say a word and silently side steps to allow him to enter his apartment. He waits until Gordon has shut the door to continue. “If you don’t mind me being frank, you don’t look well, Mr. Freeman.”

“Thanks.” Gordon says dryly. A low huff escapes him and he crosses his arms. “What do you want? What-what do I even _call_ you? I don’t think I got your name.”

“Most call me G-Man.” He says, his voice light like he’s telling a joke.

Gordon stares at him.

He laughs. “Goodman works as well.”

Gordon rubs his eyes and finds himself gravitating to his living room and sitting down on the couch. He can already tell this conversation is going to be a headache.

G-Man takes a seat on the armchair adjacent to Gordon. He waits patiently until he’s sure Gordon is listening. “Have you been sleeping well, Mr. Freeman?”

_“Why are you here?”_ Gordon says flatly. “I thought your interest with me began and ended with Black Mesa.”

“No, I’m afraid not. That could’ve been true, but you see, you’ve become very important in the eyes of Tommy. Which means my interest and support in your survival has only risen.” G-Man smiles in a way that reminds Gordon too much of a shark. “I will do anything to ensure Tommy’s happiness. And that includes popping in to check with his new found friends. So, Mr. Freeman, have you been sleeping well?”

“I’m _fine.”_ He doesn’t mean for his words to come out venomous but they do.

G-Man’s smile twitches upwards. “You’re a very bad liar, Mr. Freeman.”

Gordon doesn’t have anything to say to that.

“Nightmares, perhaps?” He presses. “I can imagine that after everything you’ve been through, surely you’d have some. What do you dream of, Mr. Freeman?”

“Why in the hell would I tell _you?”_

“Neutral third party? I hear those are good to talk to. Speaking of, might I recommend a therapist to you?”

“I don’t- stop it.” Gordon runs a stressed hand through his hair. “Stop asking me about my dreams or how I’m feeling- _I’m fine!_ That’s it! I get dreams about my hand and about that _shithole_ and about- about _him-_ but I’m still here, aren’t I? I’m doing _fine._ Stop asking!”

Gordon finds himself breathless at the end of his rant. He sucks in deep breaths in an effort to feel more in control but it doesn’t help. G-Man watches him for a moment, then slowly asks, “How come you can’t say his name, Mr. Freeman?”

Gordon’s heart stops. “What?”

“Benrey. That is what he called himself, wasn’t it? Your friend who eventually tore himself to pieces?”

“He’s not-...” A fight dies on his tongue. Gordon doesn’t know _what_ he is. Not in a literal sense and certainly not to himself. “Stop looking for problems when there aren’t any.”

“Interesting. You’re being very defensive, a lot more than I expected coming here. Though maybe I should have when I saw how you looked.” G-Man doesn’t acknowledge Gordon’s protesting and continues. “Defensive, deflective, denial… You have a lot to work on, Mr. Freeman. And I suggest you start with some closure.”

“C- _closure?”_ Gordon scoffs. 

“Yes. I hear it’s cathartic. Perhaps that skeleton outside of your apartment can help you.”

Gordon instantly tenses. “I-I don’t need closure. If anything would give me closure, it would be if that _thing_ left me alone. I want nothing to do with him.”

“Hm.” G-Man stands again, giving a short smile this time. “Then why can’t you seem to say his name?”

Gordon can’t seem to say a word in his defense. 

“Good day, Mr. Freeman. Do take care of yourself. For Tommy’s sake.”

G-Man leaves without a second word. Gordon can’t seem to find the will to fight back and stares at the floor for a long while.

—

These days, Gordon doesn’t like a lot of things. Almost anything related to Black Mesa leaves an awful taste in his mouth, but now G-Man’s words are added to the list.

They won’t leave his head. Every time he so much as leaves his apartment to get the mail- which all he gets is a magazine he keeps forgetting to unsubscribe to, and the occasional letter from Dr. Coomer who insists on writing to him despite the fact that both of them have phones- he thinks about the skeleton that lurks outside of his building.

Which makes him think about everything G-Man said and it bothers him.

It bothers him because he might be right and he hates it.

And the next time Gordon goes out for groceries, he sees the skeleton and for the first time, acknowledges it exists.

“What do you want.” His tone comes out exasperated. He slowly turns to the skeleton to find it hasn’t moved an inch, now frozen in place. “C’mon, I’ve heard you talk before. Spit it out.”

The skeleton pauses. Slowly, it shakes its head.

“What do you mean ‘no’? I’m not making up new memories. You _talked_ before, I heard it.”

The skeleton nods slightly at that. 

Gordon pauses. “What, are you saying you can’t speak anymore?” Another, more firm nod. “Huh… Sorry to hear that I guess-...” Gordon trails off, his face scrunching up. _“I’m talking to a skeleton.”_ He ends up mumbling to himself.

If the skeleton hears or cares, it doesn’t make any sign of showing it. Instead, it seems to cock it’s head a little, less of a confused look and more like it’s trying to motion to something.

It takes Gordon a minute to process. “You… Want me to follow you?”

If skeletons could smile, the look this skeleton seems to give is the closest to it. It nods again and waits expectantly. 

Gordon would much rather say no and never speak to the skeleton again, but the skeleton likely won’t go away until he does something about it. A low groan escapes him. “I can’t believe I’m considering this but… _God,_ fine. Lead the way, or whatever.”

The skeleton does. It turns around and soon enough, turns right into an alleyway, and Gordon reluctantly follows along. 

In actuality, it only takes around five minutes to get where the skeleton wants, but to Gordon it feels longer. Each step is heavy as his mind spins with possibilities of where it could be leading him. All of his thoughts end with _him,_ and he almost turns back.

But before he can, the skeleton stops and Gordon finds himself staring at a door.

A door at the end of an alleyway that looks weirdly out of place from everything else.

“This is it?” A nod. “You want me to open it or go in or something?” Another nod. “Why was I the only one you bothered about this? Couldn’t you have gotten- I don’t know, anyone else? Tommy seemed to be more friendly with the guy than _me.”_

The skeleton doesn’t make any motion to respond to that. Gordon huffs and reaches for the handle. “I can’t believe I’m doing this…”

He opens the door.

And there’s nothing.

Not nothing in the sense of nothing interesting. Not nothing in the sense that he opens the door and a brick wall stares back at him. No, because it couldn’t have been that simple.

Gordon opens the door and an endless void stares back at him.

It’s not just nothingness- it’s _choking_ nothingness. Panic grips Gordon’s heart and squeezes it painfully. Everything he doesn’t like to think about is thrown in his face as the void is placed right before his eyes, and Gordon remembers that on some level, none of this is real.

And the very thought of that turns his blood to pure ice.

It’s pure nothingness until it’s not. Because Gordon spots what looks like a storm of red, blue, and bits of other colors swarming around a floating figure. A figure that seems to be laying down and thrashes like they’re in agony.

It takes Gordon a minute to recognize who it is. And the second he does, he slams the door and his legs give out. 

Kneeling down, Gordon wheezes, trying to get his breathing under control. The skeleton stares at him the entire time and when he looks up, it seems to give him a _look._

“You-...” Gordon begins to fit the puzzle pieces together. His teeth clench. “You want me to go in _there_ and get _him?”_

The skeleton nods.

Gordon remembers the void for a minute and finds his entire body is tensing. He shakes his head, fury building up in his throat and tells it, “No. I’m not- no. Get someone else. I’m not doing this.”

The skeleton pauses, then seems to make some gestures that Gordon only recognizes as Sign Language after a minute. He looks away, resisting every urge in his body to scream. “I’m not talking to you. Not going in there. Why would I? I don’t _care_ about him! Why can’t you leave me alone?”

The skeleton stops signing for a moment, then resumes, slower this time. Gordon doesn’t want to talk by any means, but he still finds himself staring as the skeleton spells it out for him.

_‘O-n-l-y-o-n-e’_

“On-... Only one?” Gordon scoffs. “I’m really not. Go bother someone else, I’m done.”

He staggers to his feet and starts to return the way he came. The skeleton doesn’t follow him. Gordon doesn’t look back.

—

Gordon didn’t think it was possible but the dreams get worse.

_He_ shows up a lot more now.

It’s not even that it’s even in a nightmarish fashion all the time. Instead, it’s little things. Gordon is walking down the halls of Black Mesa and he’s being pestered with questions. Joshua is a baby again and Gordon is putting him to bed and _he’s_ perched on the baby changing station, watching over Joshua like some sort of twisted guardian angel. Gordon is in the dog park with Tommy and Sunkist and one second, he’s alone, and the next, he’s sitting on the bench with him.

He keeps popping up. And the worst part is when he dreams about the endless void again, because _he’s_ still there and Gordon knows it.

And it makes him wake up with a headache.

The skeleton no longer follows him wherever he goes but it still lurks on in the entrance of the alleyway to the door. Like it’s trying to tell Gordon that he already knows what it wants now, and whether or not he helps is in his hands now.

A week passes and Gordon spends most of it lying around in his house, dodging as many calls as he can before he has to pick some up to avoid suspicion.

Dr. Coomer asks a load of questions but when Gordon gives halfhearted answers, he seems to get the idea and switches to a lighter subject. Tommy rambles and surprisingly, Gordon takes a lot of peace in it. It's nice to listen to him talk. Bubby blatantly tells him he sounds like shit. Gordon tells him he’s well aware.

On day eight, Gordon dreams of the endless void.

Except this time, there’s no storm that hurts to look at. There’s only him. And he stares right at Gordon.

“You…” Gordon says breathlessly.

Benrey smirks. “Me.”

“You- ugh! Get out of my head!” Gordon’s anger turns on like a switch in an instant. “Stop bothering me!”

“I ain’t doing shit.” Benrey chuckles to himself. “This is all you.”

“You’re the one who keeps wiggling yourself into my dreams! Purposefully tormenting me!”

“You-!” His chuckle breaks off into snort like it’s the funniest joke he’s heard in awhile. “Ohhhh, you don’t get it, do you? You think- you think I’m actually Benrey. The real one- the OG.”

“Don’t turn this around.” Gordon bares his teeth. “You have weird reality warping powers anyways! If you can make yourself big, you can get into my dreams.”

“Huh, I guess there’s _some_ logic to that. But you’re kinda forgetting the important part. _No surprise there.”_

_“What_ important part?”

“Your Benrey- the real one- isn’t exactly in any shape to be warping reality, is he?”

Gordon blinks and in a split second, the storm is back, and a shaking figure who looks like he’s having a _really_ bad dream is stuck in the middle. Then, in another blink, all of it is gone, and the other Benrey is standing in front of him again.

“Oh.” Gordon says.

“Oh.” Not-Benrey echoes, smiling. “I’m you, dumbass. And you aren’t listening to yourself, so I’m gonna make you.” He spreads his arms out, looking down at his body. “Perfect replica, wouldn’t you say? I guess I can get why you were confused. Still a dumbass though.”

Gordon shakes his head. “I’m not- I’m not doing this.” He turns around and stops dead when Not-Benrey is there too.

_“Nope._ Can’t get away from me that easily. We’re gonna be here for a while, why not take the load off?”

An invisible force pushes him backwards and Gordon stumbles, finding himself sitting down in an armchair all of a sudden. He looks down, bewildered, and when he looks back up, Not-Benrey is sitting in one too. He holds a bottle of blue Poweraid in his hands and tosses it to Gordon, who barely catches it.

“Nice to take a load off your feet, huh, Feetman?”

Gordon stares at him. He drops the bottle and when he looks down, it's gone like it was never there. “This… This can’t be happening. How are you simultaneously him and not him?”

“Because I’m tapping into your perception of him while also still being you?” Not-Benrey takes a sip from a teacup that was _not_ there a second ago.

Gordon blinks again, feeling lightheaded. “This… _God,_ this is weird.”

“Blame yourself, this _is_ your mind. What, the crybaby can’t handle a little mind-fuckery? Huh? Is that what you’re telling me?”

“I’m _not_ a crybaby.”

“You sure seem to think so.” Not-Benrey takes another sip. “Tell me, Gordon, why do you think I’m here?”

“To torment me.” Gordon says flatly.

“Don’t hate the player,” he gestures to himself, “Hate the game.” He points at Gordon, grinning. “But in all seriousness, you’re feeling _hella_ guilty.”

_“Guilty?”_ It comes out as a shout. “Why would I feel _guilty_ about someone who tried to _kill_ me?”

“Because unfortunately for your own sanity, you’re a good person.” Not Benrey says, his voice smug. “And no matter how much you wanted him gone, you now can’t stop thinking about him. Because you killed him and on some level, you blame yourself for what happened, and now you have a chance to save him and you can’t handle the guilt coming to life. So you do what you always do, and you ran away.”

“I don’t run away from my problems!”

“Don’t lie to me, bro.” His eyebrows raise. “You literally can’t. There’s no use. You like to run away from things you can’t control because running away makes you feel like you _can_ control it. Or, need I remind you how it ended with Miss Maria?”

Everything stops. Gordon doesn’t even breath for a moment. “That was… That was a complicated situation.”

“It was. And neither of you handled it well. Luckily Joshua turned out okay, but that doesn’t mean everything is going to work out for you if you keep doing it.”

Gordon gulps to himself. “Why… Why are you doing this? If you’re me, you should know I don’t want anything to do with him.”

“You keep saying that, but it’s not the truth. Believe me, if it was, I wouldn’t be here.” Not-Benrey locks eyes with him. “I’m not saying you’re not justified to feel angry or confused or by not knowing if this is what you want, but I am saying that this is what you need. Benrey died and you felt empty about it. It didn’t resolve anyone like you wanted it too. Normally, you don’t get second chances, but we both know that this reality isn’t as concrete. It fluctuates, gives second chances, and right now, it’s handing you one.”

Not-Benrey grins at him, not unlike a Cheshire Cat. “So don’t fuck it up.”

Gordon jolts awake less than a second later.

—

The skeleton seems almost surprised to see him. Gordon doesn’t quite look at it and instead crosses his arms and stares at the ground. “Fine. You win. I’ll… I’ll help him out.”

The skeleton nods and leads the way again, even if Gordon has a rough idea of where it is. Gordon’s throat goes dry but he quickly starts to talk in an effort to battle the nervous energy. “Hey, so, I don’t know what your deal is but do you know what’s happening to him exactly?”

The skeleton pauses and begins to sign. Gordon carefully translates. “G-l-i-t-c- Wait, glitch? He’s- he’s glitching?” 

The skeleton confirms it. “How’d that- oh. It was the whole killing him thing, wasn’t it?”

The skeleton nods. It’s almost impossible to tell but it seems a little annoyed with him.

“Right. And he’ll be okay if I get him out of there..?”

The skeleton doesn’t respond to that. Gordon thinks it doesn’t know for sure. Then again, Gordon isn’t even sure what’s going on. 

He sucks in a breath. “Wish me luck.”

The skeleton makes a gesture as if to say, _you’re gonna need it._

Gordon opens the door and the feeling of dread crawls back under his skin. He has to suppress a shiver, and despite every bone in his body screaming to run away, he takes a step and his feet touch the void for the first time.

Gordon didn’t expect the feeling to get worse but it does. There’s a high pitched ringing in his ears and he strains himself, but he moves forward. Step by step, he approaches the storm of what looks like colorful static that holds _him._

Benrey. Real, actual Benrey, no tricks and no substitutes. He’s still floating but like before, it looks like he’s sleeping. His eyes are squeezed shut and when Gordon gets close enough to reach out, his mouth opens and releases an ear piercing screeching noise. 

Gordon flinches but his feet luckily remain planted. He waits for a second, hoping it’ll go away and when it doesn’t, he has to muster up the will to reach out again.

The static storm on his skin feels almost like getting shocked by static electricity but ten times worse. Gordon doesn’t fear for his life but it’s not pleasant by any means, and he winces as he stretches out, and finally manages to grab hold of Benrey’s wrist.

Eyes fly open in an instant and Gordon’s breath hitches when they lock onto his own. Deep red eyes stare him down- no longer expressionless or smug but something Gordon struggles to decipher. He gulps. 

He means to say something but Benrey beats him to it. His voice comes out like it’s corrupted audio. _**“Gor-don?”**_

“Y-yeah.” Gordon’s arm shakes in protest, still being assaulted by static shocks. “L-Listen. You need to calm down. I can’t-!”

_**“Calm… Down.”**_ Benrey echoes the words. It happens in an instant and Gordon almost doesn’t notice the way his body shakes until it’s too late. _**“You… YOUR FAULT!”**_

The high pitched noise, which had temporarily stopped and Gordon hadn’t noticed until now, suddenly returns and threatens to burst his eardrums. Static shocks turn to full on lightning and the storm becomes thick to the point where if Benrey wasn’t right in front of him, Gordon wouldn’t be able to find him.

Gordon tightens his grip on his wrist and clenches his teeth. “Like-like you aren’t blameless. If you would _listen_ to me for once, you would know that _I’m trying to help you!”_

In a flash, it’s gone. All of it, the noise, the pain, the storm. Gordon slowly releases the tension from his shoulder and finds himself staring at Benrey again, expression once again unreadable. His best guess is some form of shock. Disbelief?

_“You…”_ His voice sounds a little more like himself, but he doesn’t get to say much more. His eyes roll back and his body flops on the floor, no longer suspended.

It takes Gordon a minute to catch his breath and another to realize he’s gonna have to carry Benrey home. A low sigh escapes him but he manages to get Benrey over his shoulder and trudges out of the void.

When he closes the door behind him, it vanishes, as if it has no other purpose. To his surprise, the skeleton is nowhere to be seen either.

Carefully, Gordon holds on tight to Benrey and makes his way back home, unsure what comes next.

—

It’s been around ten minutes since Gordon got home and dumped Benrey on his couch. He can’t seem to decide if he wants to stare at him in disbelief, or the floor.

Luckily, his dilemma is cut off by a knock at the door. Unluckily, it’s not anyone he wanted to see. 

In fact, with Benrey on his couch and the skeleton MIA, he just might be the last person he wants to see. Other than the military.

“Fucking- _what do you want?”_

“You look better, Mr. Freeman.” G-Man smiles. His tone sounds genuine but his eyes say differently. “I have a feeling you took my advice. How is he?”

Gordon pauses for a long time. Slowly, he narrows his eyes. “You _knew.”_

“Perhaps I did.”

“Son of a _bitch-_ why didn’t you say anything? Or _do_ anything? Why not get him yourself?”

“I did say something. I pointed you in the right direction, didn’t I?” G-Man’s gaze drifts further into his apartment, likely searching for Benrey. “And _do_ give me more credit, Mr. Freeman. I’m a man of efficiency, if I could’ve done it myself, I would’ve. But the door, well, damned thing refused to open.”

G-Man shook his head. “It seems he didn’t trust me at all. But it opened for you no problem and here we are now. It worked out just fine, didn't it?"

Gordon continued to glare at him. He looked him up and down. “Why do you care about this so much?”

“It’s quite simple you see, my Tommy still has an attachment to whatever he is.” He chuckled. “I couldn’t _possibly_ tell you why, but if this Benrey makes my Tommy happy, then I will find a way to bring him back. Not to mention, you seemed to have some unfinished business with him as well, and we both know my Tommy is invested in your health. It was very much killing two birds with one stone.”

Gordon soaked that in for a minute. Then slammed the door.

“Too much bullshit for one day.” Gordon groaned. “I need a shower. A _long_ shower.”

—

Morning came and Gordon laid motionless in bed. He rubbed his face and slowly sighed to himself.

It had been a dreamless night but Gordon still felt jittery in the morning. He decided a cup of coffee would go a long way and slipped out of his bed.

As he opened the door and stepped into the living room, he froze instantly.

There, on the couch and now sitting up, a pair of red eyes now stared back at him. His back was rested up against the pillow Gordon provided as well as the orange blanket that was resting on his lap. The guest straightened up but still didn’t say a word. 

Gordon felt breathless but still managed to speak. “Benrey…”

Something about his tone must’ve been unexpected to Benrey because he looked unsure all of a sudden. His legs moved closer to his chest and he looked him up and down, like he was trying to solve a puzzle, and failing. It was a strange look to see on Benrey it all people, but then again, a lot had happened.

Gordon slowly closed his bedroom door. “We have a lot to talk about.”

**Author's Note:**

> Oh boy, this was a doozy to write but hopefully entertaining! Comments are welcomed and heavily encouraged!
> 
> Just wanna leave a few notes! First one being that I am planning a Part 2 and possibly several other parts to go along with this possible series so if you're interested, that'll likely be happening! As for the notes on the physical fic:
> 
> \- I had G-Man constantly refer to Gordon as 'Mr. Freeman' mainly because, A: He quit Black Mesa so 'Doctor' doesn't quite cut it anymore, and especially because B: It's a nod towards him and Tommy being related.
> 
> \- Gordon can read Sign Language because I had an intense desire. The Skeleton communicates non-verbally for similar reasons but also because I imagine that while it very much still has ties to Benrey, he's not exactly in any shape to be communicating through the skeleton anymore so the Skeleton does what it needs to do.
> 
> \- G-Man is meddling because I took one look at 'G-Man is Tommy's father' and decided that was an interesting plot point and ran with it
> 
> \- Not much of the Science Team I know but I wanna write more with them so don't worry!


End file.
